


language of the heart

by buckydarling



Series: tumblr prompts [4]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, HISPANIC JACK KELLY, M/M, Prompt Fill, i have nothing to say im garbage, inspired by in the heights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 18:59:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12990444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckydarling/pseuds/buckydarling
Summary: Davey asks Jack to teach him Spanish.





	language of the heart

**Author's Note:**

> SOMEONE ON TUMBLR ASKED ME TO WRITE MORE HISPANIC JACK KELLY AND I WAS HAPPY TO COMPLY
> 
> anyway
> 
> enjoy

Davey watched fondly from the doorway as Jack perched on the edge of one of the bottom bunks, five or six of the youngest boys crowded around him on the floor.

 

“Jack, Jack, how do you say newspaper in Spanish?” one of them piped up, waving his hand frantically as if he were a pupil at a desk and Jack was the teacher. (The image amused Davey to no end; he couldn’t for the life of him imagine Jack in a classroom, student or teacher.)

 

“ _Periodico,_ ” Jack answered calmly, saying it slow so the boys could work out the syllables on their tongues and try it out for themselves. “You know how some o’ them upper-class folks call the papes periodicals?” The boys _oohed,_ and Jack nodded, pleased. “That’s sort of where they get it. ‘S all related.” One of the other boys perked up.

 

“Oh, Jack! How do you say selling partner?” He grinned at the boy next to him, and Davey smiled warmly; the two were obviously already inseparable.

 

Jack smiled, humming in concentration. “I think that would be,” he mused, “ _socio de venta._ ” He looked up and pointed at Davey in the doorway all of a sudden. “So if I wanted to say in Spanish that Davey was my selling partner, I’d say, _Davey es mi socio de venta._ ” Clamoring excitedly, the kids on the floor turned to each other and began testing out the new phrase with each other’s names, giggling as the unfamiliar words tangled on their tongues. Jack laughed, shaking his head as he stood and made his way over to where Davey was standing.

 

“You’ve got a pretty attentive class there, Mr. Kelly,” Davey greeted him. “You’re a natural.” Jack waved him off sheepishly.

 

“Aw, shucks,” he joked, “it’s nothing. Helps me practice too. Can’t let myself slack off.” Davey smiled.

 

“You ready?” he asked, conspiratorially holding up the paper bag he’d been hiding behind his back. Jack gasped, looking .

 

“You _didn’t,_ ” he breathed, and Davey nodded excitedly. Jack clapped his hands briefly before turning back to the group. “Okay, kiddos, Blink is in charge, okay? And remember…” he gestured to the group of kids on the floor.

 

“Only sell papes in English,” they chorused, and Jack grinned.

 

“Awesome. Blink, you good to hold down the fort for a few hours?” Blink waved him off from where he was perched on a top bunk, legs tangled lazily with Mush.

 

“Go have fun, Kelly. Race and Albie’ll be back soon.” Jack nodded, turning back to Davey, and together they practically sprinted out the door, climbing the fire escape ladder all the way to the penthouse. Crutchie was at the theater that night, helping Medda with one of her shows, so they had the rooftop to themselves. Settling down, Davey whipped his treasure out of the bag with a flourish: a whole cupcake from the bakery down the street, preserved carefully in a box. Jack whooped.

 

“Jesus, Davey, what’s the special occasion?” he asked, staring longingly at the pastry. Davey shrugged, still not sure if he was ready to divulge the information.

 

“Had some extra pocket money,” he said. He looked away. “And my birthday was yesterday,” he added quickly, hoping Jack would miss it. Jack didn’t miss it, his mouth dropping open.

 

“That’s why you ate with your fami-- _ohh._ ” He smacked Davey on the arm. “You bastard, why didn’t you tell me?” Davey shrugged.

 

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he said. “We don’t exactly have the money for presents nowadays, so I just eat dinner with the family, and that’s that.” Jack suddenly looked guilty.

 

“Why you sharing this with me, then?” he asked self-consciously, gesturing at the grandiose cupcake. “Shouldn’t you be splitting this with Les and Sarah or something?” Davey shrugged.

 

“Why wouldn’t I share it with you?” he countered. “You’re my best friend.” Jack smiled brightly at him, eyes shining.

 

“Aw, Dave,” he hummed, and Davey smiled in return, pulling out two forks so they could eat. They made short work of the pastry - after all, it was normally intended for only one person - and put the litter in the bag, setting it aside in favor of reminiscing and looking up at the stars. Jack was warm and solid next to Davey, leaning against the railing of the fire escape.

 

“Jack?” Davey asked. Jack looked at him.

 

“Yeah?” he responded. Davey shifted so they were sitting across from each other, still close enough to touch but able to talk.

 

“Teach me some Spanish, will you?” he asked, and Jack grinned brightly.

 

“Yeah, sure! What do you want to know?” he asked eagerly. Davey looked around, feeling warm and happy and very much at home.

 

“Hmm,” he hummed. He looked at the penthouse where he spent so much of his time now, how very _Jack_ it was. The drawings, the thin blanket, the hat hanging casually from the rail. “How do you say fire escape?” Jack drummed his fingers on the metal grate.

 

“ _Salida de incendios,_ ” he answered easily. “What else?”

 

Davey looked at Jack, at his easy posture, the confidence radiating off of him that could’ve been perceived as cocky to anyone that didn’t know him well. He thought about the strike, the early days, the whirlwind feeling of victory; he thought about Jack surrounded by those little boys in the lodging house, not a care in the world.

 

“How do you say best friend?” he asked. Jack blushed.

 

“ _Mejor amigo,_ ” he answered, looking down at his hands. Davey looked at those hands, calloused and ink-stained, fingers surprisingly nimble; he thought about every time those hands had closed around his wrist to tug him sprinting down an alley at the first sign of trouble, every time those fists had been split and bloodstained after a nasty fight, how those same hands immediately became gentle, weapons no more because someone else was hurt and needed to be taken care of.

 

“How do you ask someone to hold your hand?” he blurted. Jack’s head shot up, eyes wide and still.

 

“ _Toma mi mano,”_ he managed, and somehow Davey mustered enough confidence to take Jack’s hand like it was the easiest thing in the world. They were close now, close enough for Davey to see every fleck of color in Jack’s eyes, pupils blown wide, his breath coming in soft puffs, lips parted. Davey took a deep, shaky breath in, his heart pounding with anticipation.

 

“How do you say ‘kiss me’?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, and Jack’s breath hitched. The stars twinkled above, a breeze blew across the rooftops, a window closed somewhere below them. They were still. Jack’s eyes flicked to Davey’s mouth imperceptibly fast, his cheeks glowing pink.

 

“ _Besame,”_ he whispered.

 

Davey did.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: hispanicjackkelly


End file.
